


learning curve

by izabellwit



Category: Dororo (2019), Dororo (Manga), Dororo - Osamu Tezuka
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Developing Friendships, Families of Choice, Gen, Set during episode 3, Speculation, but at least he has friends, in which Hyakkimaru discovers pain and is Not Happy about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 07:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17504048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izabellwit/pseuds/izabellwit
Summary: Just like his right leg, just like his new skin—pain is something else to adjust to. Unfortunately, Hyakkimaru is having some trouble. More fortunately… he’s not dealing with it alone.





	learning curve

**Author's Note:**

> At this point I've just resigned myself to writing a lot of fic. So much fic. I truly love this show, and Hyakkimaru's internal monologue is strangely fun to write. I hope you guys like this too, ahaha ✨
> 
> Once again, I have no knowledge of the original manga, or any other adaptions, so if my interpretation doesn't match up-- well, that's just how it goes. Sorry!!

Something is different, and for the life of him, Hyakkimaru cannot figure out what.

It’s gone straight past confusing to just plain irritating, and at this point he sort of wants to give up the guessing game entirely. Demon slayed, a piece of himself regained—so what if he can’t figure out what it is?

Except, at the same time, Hyakkimaru cannot ignore it. It’s not like his new skin. It’s not like his regrown leg. This—whatever it is, this is  _ constant,  _ and unlike limbs, it's not something he has any experience with. This is not replacing a prosthetic—this is simply new, period, and it’s newly  _ annoying. _

Everything…  _ prickles.  _ The wind doesn’t just blow through his hair, it makes his new skin crawl and his body shake. The earth feels different under the heel of his new foot; grimy and itchy and at times— _ sharp,  _ the bumps of the rocks and fallen branches suddenly striking at his skin in a way they never did before. And the water! His hands are still prosthetics, so nothing’s changed there, but the feel of it on his real leg— Hyakkimaru shudders just thinking about it. He has no word for that sensation. It’s like cloth, if cloth was a feeling instead of just a thing.  _ Slippery.  _ And, just like the wind: shivery.

If it was just that, maybe Hyakkimaru could get used to it. Maybe. But it’s not just the ground, or the rivers, or the wind. It’s this, too—a sudden and horrific burn in his left shoulder, a burn that numbed when the small soul—Dororo—had wrapped it, but still sears with a shining sharpness every time Hyakkimaru so much as shrugs. It’s the dull but chafing discomfort of his lost limbs in the clutch of the prosthetics, the ache in his leg if he walks for too long, the itch that crawls across his skin when the ends of his hair brush against his neck. 

It’s  _ everything. _

Hyakkimaru does not like it. At all. He thinks this might be ‘pain,’ the thing Jukai mentioned once after a childhood accident with a fire and Hyakkimaru’s hair, but then—well, that doesn’t make sense. Isn’t pain supposed to come after you  _ do _ something? Someone falls, and then they’re in pain, but Hyakkimaru can’t remember falling anytime recently. Or, well, he can’t remember doing anything that might warrant all…  _ this. _

But then— maybe he has the wrong idea. That’s an option too. Maybe Hyakkimaru’s been doing painful stuff all this time and just never noticed, which is— hmm. He’s not sure how he feels about that, either.

Hyakkimaru knows, logically, that he should probably be grateful. He doesn’t know much about pain—there’s only so much that Jukai could express through writing, and long detailed conversations about a sense that Hyakkimaru has no reference for is… not one of them. But he still knows about it, and Hyakkimaru also knows enough to understand that pain is  _ needed.  _

It tells you when to stop, Jukai had once written. It tells you when something is wrong. It is a signal that should not be ignored—the body’s way of keeping you alive, letting you know when things have gone wrong.  _ Pain tells you what needs fixing and avoiding, child.  _ So a sense of pain—it should be a good thing. It should help Hyakkimaru be better about caring for himself. 

…And yet. 

It’s a good thing, he knows. But isn’t he allowed to sulk about it? Just a bit? Because for all that this is a good thing— _ god,  _ is it annoying.

Huffing softly, Hyakkimaru curls up tighter on the mat. It's late, he knows— the time of day when people stop moving and stay still inside their homes.  _ Night,  _ Jukai had written. Dororo, and that one new soul, bent and withered with a green-stick cane, had stopped to sit and rest hours ago. 

Hyakkimaru’s spent the whole time trying to sleep, but finding rest is harder than ever. His new eyelids keep drifting closed, and they feel weird against his prosthetics in a way they never did before, the sensation new and annoying. The mat is hard beneath his shoulder and his  _ other _ shoulder is still burning a bit and actually, the ground is really, really hard, almost painfully so, like a weight that’s pressing and pressing and  _ pressing  _ and—

Oh, damn it.

Hyakkimaru sighs through his teeth and rolls up back onto his feet. He knows himself well enough to realize he won’t be getting sleep anytime soon, not like this. He may as well spend some time with the other souls, because at least that’s better than sitting in the dark. 

Which—  well. That much, Hyakkimaru cannot complain about. It’s… nice, to spend time with other people. To just be with them. Even if this new sense is driving Hyakkimaru crazy, it’s almost worth it just to have someone else there by his side.

…He misses Jukai.

Hyakkimaru shakes off that thought before it can settle, and makes his way to the other souls, their white fire flickering in his vision. This ache, at least, is nothing new. The feeling of his heart being suffocated… Hyakkimaru has gotten very used to it. This ache has been there ever since he left Jukai behind, and only started fading once Dororo began hounding Hyakkimaru’s heels. 

He’ll just have to get used to these new aches too, Hyakkimaru decides. His steps never falter, and he walks until he reaches the others. The smaller soul—Dororo—notices him first, their head tilting up, one arm waving as if saying hello. The two souls are seated in what looks like a half-circle, and before them bits of green flares and fades in Hyakkimaru’s vision, faint and crackling. Maybe a fire? Probably a fire.

Curious, Hyakkimaru keeps walking, right to the edge of the flickering green—and stops mid-step with his real foot in the air, biting back a gasp. This feeling is different from the shivery chill of the winds and streams. This is…

He doesn’t have a word to describe it, but he can guess. Jukai tried to teach him what he could, but until now, Hyakkimaru had never had a reference for this word. Heat. Hot.  _ Warm. _

It’s warm.

…And prickly, too. The bottom of his foot itches when he draws it away. The dirt scours at his bare heel. 

Hyakkimaru clenches his jaw, considering. It’s new. It’s all so new, but… he needs to get used to this sensation at some point, right? He can’t let it stop him. He can’t let it slow him down. He can’t let it get in his way, and that just means he has to push through it, same as everything else.

Hyakkimaru takes a small breath, holds it, and steps forward. 

His mind blanks out. 

He doesn’t even notice Dororo until he’s on the ground, the small soul clinging his side and shaking their head as if angry. He barely even notices  _ that,  _ either, because—

_ Ow ow ow ow ow OW— _

Oh, bad idea. Bad idea. That had been—such a bad idea,  _ ow,  _ his foot is  _ burning! _ Forget his shoulder,  _ this _ is the worst pain Hyakkimaru’s ever felt. He’d known fire ate through wood—it's why he’d stepped with his real leg—but he hadn’t thought it would feel like  _ that!  _

He gets the sense Dororo is scolding him. Hyakkimaru doesn’t right care.  _ Ow.  _ He knows he’s screwed up, he doesn’t need an extra reminder.

There had been a time when Hyakkimaru thought he’d like a sense of pain. He’s regretting that now. He’s really, really regretting that. Fucking  _ ow. _

He lets Dororo pull him upright and clenches his teeth when they start wrapping his foot. He understands bandages now. He also understands why Jukai never let him near the fires.  _ God. _ He is never touching another fire again. His inner pep-talks and determination can shush it.

Dororo is agitated; they keep waving their arms and shaking one finger in Hyakkimaru’s face. It’s amusing and vaguely reminiscent of Jukai, a bit, which makes Hyakkimaru’s chest hurt again, but the sight is an easy distraction. It’s better than focusing on his leg, anyhow. He hopes he didn’t hurt himself permanently—wouldn’t that be ironic?

Hyakkimaru focuses on Dororo, instead, who’s gradually begun to wave both arms now, head shaking in a scolding manner. Every once in awhile they pat down his shoulders and check his leg again, as if to make sure he’s alright. Their touch is friendly—soft pressure and a slight warmth, just like the fire before Hyakkimaru stomped on it. It’s… nice.

He doesn’t like pain. He  _ definitely _ doesn’t like feeling pain. But… well.

Maybe it’s not all bad, Hyakkimaru decides, and loosens the grip on his prosthetics, letting the wooden fingers uncurl. Pain, cold, heat. It’s new, and annoying, but…

The thought rises in his mind, and this time Hyakkimaru doesn’t push it away. If he meets Jukai again, somewhere down this road… the next time Jukai hugs him, would Hyakkimaru be able to feel it?

...He hopes so.

Hyakkimaru leans back on his arms and closes his eyes against Dororo’s tirade. He can still see them—the small white fire of Dororo’s soul, the older soul still settled by the campfire—and he lets his sight drift past the flashes of green and white to rest on the murky darkness above. 

He doesn’t like the pain. But the warmth, the feel of the wind, the soft texture of his own clothes—well, Hyakkimaru thinks. Just like Dororo’s company, just like sword fighting, just like cooked fish and companions by his side—

He thinks maybe he could get used to this after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions or just want to talk, [my tumblr](http://izaswritings.tumblr.com) is always open!!
> 
> Any thoughts?


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